Glimmer
by Ninnik Nishukan
Summary: Roxanne Ritchi goes all gangsta on Megamind. Before Christmas. Traditions, like rules, can be broken. Pre-movie AU, fairly light-hearted.
1. ONE

**Glimmer**

Ninnik Nishukan

* * *

**Summary:** Roxanne Ritchi goes all gangsta on Megamind. Before Christmas. Traditions, like rules, can be broken. Pre-movie AU, fairly light-hearted.

* * *

**ONE**

* * *

It was the first of December, there was frost on the ground, and Roxanne Ritchi was out and about, getting a head start on her Christmas shopping.

So far, she was doing pretty well. She'd already bought gifts for her parents, her brother, her grandparents, various aunts, uncles and nieces, and a few people at work.

The problem was Hal. She didn't particularly want to get him anything, but she had the sinking suspicion that he was going to get her an even more embarrassingly lavish gift than last year, and couldn't quite bring herself to snub him entirely. It would also be really uncomfortable if he found out she'd bought something for Denise in the public complaints department and nothing for her cameraman, whom she worked with closely (too closely for her liking) almost every day. She'd been friends with Denise since her first week at KMCP 8, when the older woman had given her some invaluable pointers— and especially since Denise had the charming habit of showing up at her desk and asking her out to lunch before Hal could get the chance to do so.

Giving Denise a gift made all the sense in the world. She liked Denise. _Hal_, however…he was nice enough, but she knew she'd only be buying him a present to avoid the guilt and because she pitied him in a way. For the time being, she was on the fence, and knew she was going to avoid making any kind of decision until the last possible moment. Heck, never mind that she didn't even _want_ to get Hal anything in the first place; she didn't even know _what_ to get him if she _did_ buy him something.

Then there was Metro Man. As he was a record collector, he was blessedly easy to shop for. She'd gotten him a rare mint condition The Shadows vinyl record that she knew he'd treasure. She looked forward to getting his traditional thank you call on Christmas day.

Sighing with the mixed emotions present shopping for the holidays always stirred up in her, she trudged on, hefting her (thankfully not too heavy) shopping bags into a more comfortable grip in her hands.

As usual, Metro Man naturally sent her train of thought rolling towards Megamind.

She wondered whether Megamind would be getting any gifts this year. For all intents and purposes, he was the kid that usually got coal in his stocking.

In her opinion, Megamind didn't really deserve any gifts, but somebody being alone and gift-less on Christmas— even somebody like Megamind— was a pretty gloomy thought. She was sure Minion would do something for him, though.

As she walked by an alternative clothing store window, she stopped for a moment, shaking her head and smirking at the tacky Kiss knockoffs on display; knee-high platform boots, complete with their thick soles painted like fangs and with diamond-shaped, studded kneepads.

That was exactly the kind of flamboyant thing he'd love to receive as a present— and would wear with pride, too, probably thinking they made him appear menacing rather than ridiculous.

Well, he wasn't going to get them from _her_, anyway. She had a surprise of a _whole_ different kind in store for him.

Roxanne sighed as she heard the screech of tires and saw a door opening seemingly out of nowhere, a familiar figure stepping out of it, smirking at her.

Speak of the devil…

She'd hoped she'd at least have time to swing by the station and stash her shopping bags under her desk first, but no such luck. What if she lost some of the gifts or they broke?

It'd be worth it, though, she'd make sure of that.

* * *

The first mistake he'd made was to still go through with his plans, even without Minion. Really, what were the _odds_ that his spare gorilla robot suit malfunctioned _right _before they needed it— the _one _instance he hadn't had the opportunity to repair the regular one, which had been badly damaged after their last run-in with Metro Man? He'd been able to do some quick tinkering on the spare to get it working again, but it still required extensive charging; hopefully, it would be warmed up by tonight, but he wasn't sure exactly when.

He'd have loved to post-pone, but unfortunately, it was the perfect evening for this; it was the _only_ evening for this. Metro Man was going to lead the tree lighting ceremony as usual, and how evil wouldn't it be to interrupt _that_? To ruin the most beloved Metrocity holiday tradition of all?

Not only that— his part in it was tradition, too! The public _expected_ him to ruin their ceremony. He couldn't let his audience down, so to speak.

They only even had that ludicrously humongous tree— bigger than the one at Rockefeller Center, the mayor always bragged— because Mr. Show-Off could fly it over to the square in front of City Hall in a heartbeat and didn't need a ladder to decorate or light it. Bah. Such blatant flaunting of powers that he hadn't strived for but that had simply been handed to him deserved to be disrupted, not greeted by a chorus of amazed oohs and aahs. It was _distasteful_, the blind way in which they worshipped him.

But these digressions aside…where it had really all gone to pieces was when he'd gone to get Miss Ritchi.

He should've known that she of all people wouldn't simply _faint_ at the sight of him. Had Minion been there, he might've pointed this out.

Megamind, however, had shrugged and thought _it was about time_, glad that his most terrifying outfit yet hadn't been for nothing. He was _supposed_ to be scary. He _was_ scary. Horrible. Something to be feared.

He'd frowned at the limp body in his arms. Too used to Minion doing all the lifting, he'd barely even remembered to catch her before she hit the pavement. Maybe he'd overdone it with the black eyeliner, he'd wondered. Maybe he looked _too_ sinister.

Scoffing at himself, he'd ignored it and had gone to work on tucking away the prone Miss Ritchi, not to mention her three shopping bags, into the back of the invisible car.

On the way to Evil Lair, however, he caught himself frowning at his reflection in the rearview mirror and then surreptitiously checking his breath, wondering, worrying, a hard, cold little something wiggling in his stomach for a moment—

—a very short moment, though, because then he had bigger things to worry about.

Like the fact that Miss Ritchi wasn't out cold at all, and was currently pressing the barrel of a gun to the back of his head.

"You just keep on driving, Megamind…oh, and you need both hands on the steering wheel, so don't try anything funny," she practically purred, her voice unsettlingly sweet as she reached down and removed his ray gun from its holster on his hip, completely disarming him.

He gulped.

* * *

During the drive, Megamind had several times considered just driving around in circles and never arriving at his lair, but he knew it wouldn't take long before she'd catch on.

Besides, she must've noticed his shifty eyes, because she'd pushed the barrel of the gun closer against his head, leaning towards him. _"I __**told**__ you…no funny business, Megamind,"_ she'd warned, shaking her head sternly.

This wasn't like the other times people had pointed guns at him. Every so often, he came across cops wanting to play hero, but when they actually came face to face with him, they were so scared out of their wits that they just stood there shaking, dropped their guns, ran away or even fainted.

_Miss Ritchi_ hadn't been even remotely frightened of him for years.

She wasn't talking much back there, simply _grinning_ as she unwaveringly kept the gun pressed to the back of his bare head. It felt like it was _glued_ there, after a while. Her approach of barely even speaking to her hostage had completely caught him off balance. If she'd gotten it into her head to be such a "bad girl" all of a sudden, why didn't she go all out, make a thing of it? _Gloat_ some more? Make some more threats? Tell him what she was going to do to him? Her wall of silence was _freaking him out_. _This_ wasn't how you did it!

So he drove on, trying to ignore the cold sweat that had broken out all over his face and cursing the fact that he'd now be forced to find yet another new lair since she'd be bound to go public with the secret location. Maybe if he was lucky, Minion's robot body would be ready by the time they arrived, so they could try to stop her.

It wasn't until they pulled up into the parking space of his secret lair and she'd ushered him out of the car that he seemed to find his voice again.

"You're not leaving _those_ there, if _that's _what you think," he reprimanded her, releasing every second of subdued fear, anger and frustration of the last fifteen minutes into that single, peevish remark.

Roxanne's gaze followed the line of his pointed finger, which was trembling with indignation, to the shopping bags still lying in the backseat. Her mouth curled into a saccharine smile. "Why, Megamind, are you offering to _carry my bags_ for me? How absolutely _darling_ of you!"

His lips stretched into a thin, tight line of vengefulness, the leather of his gloves creaking as his hands balled into fists. "Oh, so it's not enough that you've got me right where you want me— now you have to twist the knife as well?" he asked bitterly.

She nodded, her smirk advertising her supreme self-satisfaction. "Just because I _can_, Megamind…just because I can."

He grumbled as he pulled the bags out of the backseat, trying to keep one eye on her and the gun at all times. "Well, well, well…does Metrocity _know_ how little it takes for Roxanne Ritchi to become mad with power— even a _little_ power?" he inquired snidely. "_Oh_, how the holier-than-thou have _fallen_!"

Her smile was mendaciously angelic. "By all means, keep talking. It makes me laugh."

His brain couldn't seem to produce a proper comeback to that level of insolence right then, which only served to vex him more. He clutched the shopping bags too tightly, hoping there was something delicate and breakable in there.

They were greeted by a swarm of chattering and buzzing brainbots in the lab. By the way they were hovering left and right, their eyestalks busily scanning Miss Ritchi, himself and the shopping bags, he could tell they weren't quite sure how to interpret the unusual situation.

Megamind's heart leapt when he caught Miss Ritchi looking uncertain for the first time that day, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Call them off," she whispered by his ear, digging the gun gently but firmly into his ribs.

He knew it would be easy enough for the brainbots to disarm her, but it was hard to tell what she'd have time to do in those few seconds between his order to seize her and her actual capture. It was quite possible that she was merely bluffing, but he wasn't sure if he was willing to take the risk. If she didn't go as far as to harm _him_, there was no guarantee that she'd spare his brainbots, who were probably nothing more than machines to her, and expendable. He knew he could fix them, but he still didn't like to see them damaged. They could be so…so sentient sometimes.

And then of course, there was the fact that he'd spent years and years continuously kidnapping her. He supposed she had no reason whatsoever to show him any mercy.

Not often, but a couple of times, in those defenceless moments late at night as he was trying to get to sleep, he'd wondered what might happen if Roxanne Ritchi finally got fed up with being kidnapped one day. Sure, she didn't have any super powers or a gigantic brain, but she was really too clever for her own good, and didn't it only have to be a matter of time before she did…_something_, whatever it was?

This hadn't been what he'd imagined, though. Then again, he wasn't even quite sure _what_ he'd imagined, just that there had been a general sense of itchy apprehension.

At the same time, there was a part of him— lodged somewhere between the fear and the dizzying sense of unfamiliarity— that was intrigued.

Why was she doing this? What was going to happen next? And how would it end?

He was aware on some kind of level that it was twisted, but there was also a sense of gratification. He'd actually gotten such an upstanding citizen as Roxanne Ritchi to _plot_ against him, to use _trickery_ for— for whatever her reason for this was. Finally, he'd provoked her, interested her enough that she even went as far as to break the game, went as far as to take an active role, surprise him— he couldn't help but feel great respect for her, even as he felt humiliated and offended over being put in this undignified position.

Also (and he didn't want to think too hard about the fact that he was even taking this into _consideration_), there was always the possibility that Miss Ritchi herself might get harmed in the struggle to grab the weapon away from her.

So with a sigh, he nodded at the brainbots. "Miss Ritchi isn't an intruder," he assured his babies, "she and Daddy are just going to…play a little game, that's all."

Forcing down a snicker, Roxanne smiled at the hovering robots. "Listen to your Daddy, now, go on," she cooed, throwing an arm around Megamind's narrow shoulders; squeezing him against her side for a moment. "We're great pals, look!"

A jolt went through Megamind's entire body at the spontaneous gesture. His arms tingled.

Convinced, the curtain of brainbots parted. Roxanne marched herself and Megamind right into their midst and past them, now appearing undaunted once more.

"Now what to do, what to _do_…" she said, feigning pensiveness.

Still flustered, Megamind jumped at the chance to roll his eyes derisively at her. "Oh, _don't _tell me you've gone _this_ far when you don't even have a _plan_— you know, _ama-tee-yers_ like you give the rest of us a bad name— I mean, a good name— I mean—"

Roxanne ignored his mockery. "Ah, _there_ we go," she said brightly, as she spotted her target.

She heard him groan and saw his shoulders slump when he caught on. There, surrounded by rows of pointless but visually impressive blinky dials and Tesla coils and standing below the deactivated death traps hanging like lethal chandeliers above, was her old friend…the hostage chair.

"I'd hate to be rude," she purred, her breath and the barrel of the gun too close to the back of his neck for comfort; _his_ comfort, "so _please_…go ahead and take a seat."

Letting out a longsuffering sigh, he trudged grudgingly towards the chair and sat down, immediately crossing his arms to show his defiance, his intense glare making him look as if he was attempting to melt the gun in her hand through sheer willpower alone. Either that, or he was badly constipated.

Pausing to take in the satisfying sight of their role reversal, she took a quick look around. "So…where's Minion today?"

Megamind answered the question only when he realized he couldn't think of an appropriate lie. Because what else could Minion _possibly_ want to be doing on a big night like this; such a special, annual occasion? He should've made up something on the way over, he knew now, but it had been surprisingly hard to be all creative when there was a gun aimed at his head. "Minion's robot body was in need of some repairs. It's charging right now, and it'll probably be a while," he muttered.

So much for the ambush.

Roxanne exhaled quietly, relieved. Minion was actually an unexpectedly nice person for a professional Igor with the head of a fish and the body of a mechanical gorilla. He was always polite, upbeat and friendly towards her, even taking her side sometimes when she and Megamind had their little games of wits. It was probably _all kinds_ of wrong, as he _was_ instrumental in her monthly or even weekly kidnappings, but there was no way around it: The thought of having to threaten Minion with a gun soured her stomach. She could already picture the betrayed and disappointed look on his little face.

"Good." Composing herself, she smirked as she calmly removed her gloves, stuffed them in her coat pocket and pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her handbag. _Megamind_, on the other hand, she had _no_ trouble threatening and keeping captive.

Roxanne watched as his face turned a paler shade of blue.

She was really going to _enjoy_ this.

* * *

By the time she'd secured his hands to the back of the chair, looping the little chain of the handcuffs through the metal bars of the back, and had tied his legs to the chair with some rope she'd found, Roxanne had to admit to herself that she was starting to feel a bit giddy.

He was such a sore loser, sullenly watching her the whole time and criticizing her methods of restriction like some disapproving old high school teacher— as if he didn't even realize that you shouldn't exactly be giving your captor bondage pointers.

This was fun!

Something seemed to be missing, though.

Ah. Right. The finishing touches.

Flouncing off to her shopping bags, she returned with a handful of decorations.

"'Tis the season," she announced mischievously, right before she wrapped a shimmering length of tinsel around his neck like a long scarf. For good measure, she tied a red ribbon around his knees before leaning back to admire her handiwork.

Ah, this was _so_ worth it.

Now he was gawking at her as if she was not only supremely impertinent, but also certifiably insane. "What _am_ I, one of those decorative trees you people insist on dragging inside your living rooms every year? What do you _want_ with me, woman?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, as if scolding a naughty child, "just wait and you'll see."

He tilted his head at her in annoyed resignation. "Oh, so it's more _suspense _now, is it? Miss Ritchi, I'm starting to believe there won't even be an actual climax to your plot and that you're just stalling to avoid facing your inescapable embarrassment."

"Nope, it's just another day on the job for me," she told him lightly.

"_Just_ _another_—" he began, outraged; then he choked. _Oh, nooo…no, no, NO…! _To his horror, she was now fiddling with the controls that, if operated correctly, would allow her to broadcast this entire embarrassing predicament live for the viewing pleasure of the people of Metrocity.

Megamind saw and heard her turn the power on, watched with increasing dismay as she carelessly flicked switches and adjusted a slightly loose cable. The two cameras trained on the chair, which should've been occupied by Miss Ritchi, now buzzed and glowed menacingly at him, waiting to record. The only thing left was for her to send the clearance signal to the handful of brainbots downtown who'd been sent ahead to film the inevitable disappointment of the hopeful children and adults who'd turned up for the ceremony.

"How did you know how to _do_ that?" he demanded, startled.

Turning around, she put her hands on the swell of her womanly hips and gave him an overbearing look. "Oh, come _on_— not only am I around broadcasting equipment every day at my job, but you've kidnapped me _how_ many times? I've seen you doing this _over and over_. After a while, people _do_ tend pick up a few things," she added dryly. "Or maybe you're just starting to repeat yourself too much?"

Megamind spluttered.

Ignoring his incoherent protests, Roxanne took the time to smooth down her clothes and run a delicate hand through her hair before she grinned wickedly at her hostage.

"Smile for the camera, Megamind," she chirped, and pushed the last button, starting up the show.

Megamind held his breath. Within ten seconds, he saw himself and Miss Ritchi displayed on the monitors of the lair, in turn showing them as they appeared on the single, giant monitor the brainbots had now managed to set up by City Hall.

"Good evening, Metro City!" Roxanne's perky greeting reverberated in the lair. "This is Roxanne Ritchi, reporting live from…" she paused, grinning down at Megamind, who'd gone rigid with fear that she'd reveal the location of his secret lair, but she went on smoothly: "…an _undisclosed location_, and I'm here to inform you there will be _no_ traditional interruptions during the tree lighting ceremony this year," Roxanne announced cheerfully, grinning wider still as she patted her captive's large, domed head like a puppy. Mortified beyond words, Megamind could only growl at the citizens watching. "Happy holidays, and have a good one. Roxanne Ritchi signing off."

In the lair, Megamind soundlessly breathed out. She hadn't tattled on him. Why hadn't she tattled on him?

Onscreen, the crowd gathered in a loud cheer.

"A big hand for Metro City's own _Roxanne Ritchi_, everybody!" came the familiar voice of Metro Man, who'd been hastily handed a microphone from the Mayor. The cheers rose to a crescendo when Metro Man, apparently in honor of her, decided to light the tree an hour early.

Smiling happily to herself, her cheeks pink as she drank in the sight of the gorgeous, glittering, multi-colored lights, the star on top sparkling gold, Roxanne turned off the live transmission from the lair and muted the sound on the speakers, still watching the joyous crowd gathering around the tree.

* * *

Humming.

She was _humming _to herself under her breath as she removed her coat and scarf and placed them across his desk, as if she was some sort of _guest_ that was making herself _comfortable_. Didn't she even _care_ that Minion might show up at any minute now, and that _she_ might then become the one tied to the chair— the way it _should_ be?

Damn her and her red woolen sweater that gently hugged her ample curves, damn her and the way she was now smoothing down the fine, soft-looking hairs at the nape of her neck, which must've been ruffled by her scarf—

Just damn her in general.

When a few brainbots floated towards her to investigate, she didn't seem nervous. Rather, she stroked one of the snooping creatures across its domed head, like you would a cat.

It was _insufferable_!

Fuming, he was unavoidably reminded of how she'd just treated _him_. On camera. In front of the entire city. Patting his head like a pet's.

He should've already known something was up when he was cruising around in the invisible car to find the perfect spot to ambush her. He'd noticed she was wearing pants. She nearly always wore a dress or a skirt to work, probably to look more appealing to the viewer's at home…and to impress her _boyfriend_ when he came to rescue her. But not today, even if today was a tradition.

Gargh. He would get his revahnge. He _would_.

And yet…yes, she'd captured and humiliated him, but she also hadn't sent Metro Man after him, and she seemed more cheerful than vindictive. It was almost making him wonder whether she was planning on simply letting him _go_ after she'd had her fun— but then there was still the gun, which made it all pretty nerve-wracking. In fact, this was sort of more bewildering and intriguing than it was infuriating. Not that _she _was going to find out about _that_, though.

He scowled at his intruder as he noticed that the brainbot currently making happy little noises and circling her petting arms was Pinky, the "female" one, so named because she was…uh, pink.

It _figured_. Women and their unpredictable ways!

Then he heard a couple more brainbots, these the standard "male" blue ones, starting to bark excitedly at the reporter, wanting her attention.

Traitors! What next? Would they ask her to play _fetch_?

By now, he was practically panting with the unbearable amount of curiosity she'd built up inside of him. She _still _hadn't given him any straight answers. "Why are you _doing_ this?" He snapped, glowering at her.

Somewhat surprised at the sudden outburst, she still only regarded him in a calm manner, her hand resting on top of Pinky's head. "Because the citizens of Metro City deserve to have their annual tree lighting ceremony left in peace for once," she explained simply, tilting her head at him.

Skepticism raised his eyebrows. "Uh huh."

Roxanne merely shrugged. "Fine. You want some more _selfish_ reasons? Ones that are easier for somebody like _you_ to understand? How about I wanted to see the tree lighting ceremony for once, hmm? Because of you, I _always _miss it!" she informed him, her voice picking up a slightly sharper quality as she went, "There's also payback, good ol' fashioned curiosity…and hey, you can't blame a girl for wanting to mix things up a little, right?"

Megamind pursed his lips in irritation. "Are you _implying _I don't keep things _interesting_ enough for you, Miss Ritchi?"

"_Implying_ isn't strong enough of a word," she deadpanned, leaving the small cluster of brainbots gradually increasing in size around her and sauntering across the floor, her shapely legs propelling her further away from him.

There was a small stab of panic in his gut. He still had no idea when Minion would show up to help him. "_Surely_ Miss Roxanne Ritchi, paragon of virtue, isn't going to leave somebody tied up, especially during _this_ time of year?" he called after her, hastily reassuring himself that he wasn't doing anything that might be interpreted as begging and be used against him at a later opportunity.

Pausing at his desk, Roxanne grinned at him over her shoulder. "Oh, no…don't worry, I'm not going _anywhere_. I've always _wanted_ to check this place out and see how many things all those biographies have gotten wrong about you."

He gasped. "_WHAT_?"

"I'll be right back. _Don't_ _move_, okay?" She walked off, her aggravating chuckles trailing after her.

And of course she hadn't even bothered to turn off the monitors before she left, so he was forced to endure the blindingly white smile of Metro Man spread across twenty-three monitors of varying sizes.

Thank Tesla she had at least muted the sound.

* * *

What he was starting to privately refer to as the Megamind Humiliation Tour had now lasted for about half an hour, and was still going strong.

So far, Roxanne Ritchi had poked and prodded and taken pictures of every finished and half-finished robot and gadget in the lab with what she'd called the camera on her "sell fone", picked at the sparse contents of his fridge, complaining over the lack of decent food, and commented on the many notes and diagrams hanging suspended from his ceiling and tacked up on his bulletin boards:

"_And here's a picture of Metro Man entitled "Mega-ham". Aww, and you've drawn a little ham with wings. That's really…__**clever**__."_

"_Your sarcasm won't work on __**me**__, newsie," he'd assured her, scowling. _

"_Now here's a more __**sensible**__ one: 'Get milk'. Yeah, you should, and get some bread, butter, vegetables and some other stuff while you're at it, too. No __**wonder**__ you're so skinny."_

"_Miss Ritchi, do I tell __**you**__ how to eat?"_

"'_Buy monocle'? What, are you gonna get yourself one of those twirly moustaches and start tying me to the railroad tracks now, too?"_

"_Maybe I __**will**__!" he'd shouted defiantly, aware that it probably didn't sound as threatening to her as it'd sounded in his head. _

And now…now she was going through his DVD collection and _singing_, as if she were…were _baking cookies_ or something rather than trespassing in an infamous supervillain's lair. He _swore_, that woman was the most impudent, mindbogglingly fearless person he'd _ever_ known. Had she no sense of danger or self-preservation? It was a downright _miracle_ her bloodline hadn't gone extinct _years_ ago.

Yet somehow, he was the one tied to a chair, and she was the one holding the gun. This inconvenient truth was eating at him.

"On our way from Stockholm, it started to snow," Roxanne hummed quietly as she sifted through the shelf of DVDs. Since he'd always been fond of choosing his own soundtrack for his villainous adventures and she'd already been subjected to his taste in music more than enough times (and loudly so), she'd foregone the record collection, going straight for the movies. There were…_really_ rather a lot of them, which made sense since he and Minion couldn't exactly go for a night on the town.

"And you said it was like Christmas, but you were wrong," she sang under her breath, whistling tunelessly for a moment as she flipped through a big stack of what she knew from experience often were the mandatory components of the movie collection of a guy of a certain age: The Superman movies, the first two Terminators, _Predator_, the Godfather trilogy, all the Alien movies, all Die Hards, _Bladerunner_, tons of Bruce Lee movies, _Wrath of Khan_— and oh, look, the first three Star Wars— well, almost everybody owned those, including herself.

The Halloween he'd kidnapped her when she went dressed as Princess Leia had been particularly embarrassing, although she'd never seen him quite that sweaty and awkward around her. Good thing she hadn't gone with the gold bikini outfit, at least.

Roxanne clucked her tongue. Well, this wasn't very exciting _at all_. Who knew a guy this eccentric would have such a standard collection of movies?

She searched on, curiously opening the metal drawer on the bottom. She started singing again, still softly and absentmindedly, as she rummaged through the drawer. "It wasn't like Christmas at all…"

The singing tapered off.

_The Little Mermaid_.

Megamind, self-proclaimed incredibly handsome master of all villainy, owned a copy of _The Little Mermaid_.

Roxanne barely even realized she'd giggle-snorted out loud until Megamind shouted at her.

"Why are you _laughing_?" he demanded, desperately trying to turn around in his chair so he could see her. "What are you _doing_?"

"Oh, _noooothing_!" Roxanne called out, all innocent sing-song. Well, she wasn't fooling _him_.

He cringed, cursing all things reporter-shaped. It had now become _excruciatingly_ clear to him that she must've found his _The Little Mermaid _DVD. He vowed to throw it out first thing tomorrow.

Grunting in frustration, he hunched up his shoulders and settled down for a good sulk. This was only temporary. Sooner or later, he'd be _bound _to get his revahnge.

Right?

Meanwhile, Roxanne had stopped laughing. She'd made yet another discovery.

This one didn't make her want to laugh at all.

Starting with a copy of _As Good As it Gets_, she'd realized she was now pulling up film after film that she herself owned.

A distressed little noise tried to flee her mouth; she squashed it down. _Casablanca,_ _Punch-drunk Love_, _Edward Scissorhands_, _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, _Lost in Translation,_ _Singin' in the Rain_…they were all there, and more. _Many_ more.

Roxanne pulled an uncomfortable face. Shit. Half _her_ film collection mirrored the film collection of one of the most infamous _convicted felons_ in the world.

_What does that say about me? _she wondered, absentmindedly fiddling with a copy of _Stranger than Fiction_. Or perhaps even more unsettlingly; what did it say about _him_?

She'd always known those books about Megamind were riddled with incorrect information— a lot of them were simply written to cash in on people's curiosity about the criminal celebrity, anyway, rather than any genuine interest on the author's part— but she hadn't expected them to be _this_ far off the mark. One author had guessed his favorite movie was _Silence of the Lambs_. Yeesh! _Talk_ about _sensationalizing_.

Was Megamind attempting to study human nature and human relationships like the alien scientist he was, or was he like her; preferring movies that were more quiet, character-driven, down-to-earth or at least blessedly devoid of any car explosions because he already had such an action-packed, adventurous life?

A distinctly _troubled_ something curling in her belly, Roxanne quickly decided she was done with his DVD collection for the time being.

* * *

**Author's note:** Concluded in chapter two.

**A big thank you** goes out to **p****atcot2007** and **b****org_princess** from the Megamind LJ community, who both volunteered to beta read for me. Thank you for the encouraging words and the helpful criticism. :)

**EDIT (05.01.2011):** Changed "Thank Edison" to "Thank Tesla", because I was never quite happy with "Edison"...and then TigerQueen mentioned Tesla in her review. Thanks for that. ;)

Also changed "cell phone camera" to "what she'd called the camera on her 'sell fone'", to echo Megamind's apparent unfamiliarity with the common telephone in the movie.

**Tree lighting ceremony: **The Rockefeller center one takes place November 30th. I put the Metro City one on December 1st simply because I wanted it to be in December. *shrugs*

**Megamind's bulletin board:** "Mega-ham", "get milk" and "monocle" are from his actual bulletin boards in the _Megamind_ game.

**Roxanne's song:** _Just Like Christmas_ by Low.

**Megamind's ****"other" stash of movies:** Not trying to project my tastes in movies onto our villain/hero or our heroine. The movies themselves aren't THAT important. You can copy/paste your own taste in movies there in your head, if you like. Just trying to make Roxy uncomfortable, hahah. :P

Why _Stranger than Fiction_? Well, obviously because it stars Will Ferrell, the voice of Megamind, but also because it's about a man seemingly trapped by a destiny that, against all odds, he ultimately escapes. Eh? Eh? Geddit? HOLEESHITE, I R TTLY DEEP. D:

The other films were chosen because they're all about basically ordinary but lonely and kind of weird people (some even outcast-like) in a non-action/fantasy setting (_Edwards Scissorhands_ does have a fantasy element to it, though). Except for Singin' in The Rain, which was chosen because I thought Megs might like that whole Lina Lamont thing, with her being worshipped despite not being talented, and then the public finding out that the overlooked Kathy, hiding in the shadows, so to speak, had the real talent all along. I'm sure he'd like for Metro Man to be "exposed" like that somehow (except that Mets does have powers and talent and was a real hero, he just couldn't take it anymore). As for Casablanca…eh, well, you gotta have Casablanca, I guess. :P

**The Little Mermaid:** Because the thought of Megs crying over the scene where Ariel sings how much she wants to be part of another world she thinks she can't be part of is both sad and funny. :D


	2. TWO

**Glimmer**

Ninnik Nishukan

* * *

**Summary:** Roxanne Ritchi goes all gangsta on Megamind. Before Christmas. Traditions, like rules, can be broken. Pre-movie AU, fairly light-hearted.

* * *

**TWO**

* * *

The time had come to try one of the many side doors in the humongous building.

She was careful as she opened it, half-expecting booby traps, but when the seconds ticked by and nothing happened, she took her chances and stepped inside, flicking on the light switch as she went.

The room she entered was cool and serene, and the light in there was even dimmer than in the lair.

While the rest of the lair was overflowing with tools, paperwork and gadgets, this room was spartanly furnished; it included a narrow bed, a nightstand and a chair. There was a glass of water, a small lamp and an alarm clock on the nightstand.

On the floor, halfway under the bed, there lurked a pair of black, bat-shaped slippers, their beady, red eyes peering up at her distrustfully.

On the bed, which was covered in a simple white- and blue-striped duvet, there was a ludicrous pair of pajamas lying in a heap, complete with a skull-and-lightning bolt pattern and even a high collar.

She snorted, suddenly wondering if she actually had any men in her life who _didn't _dress like an attention-seeking man-child. The closest she got was her doorman, Carlos, although who knew how _he_ liked to dress when he wasn't in uniform?

Beyond the pajamas, though, something else caught her eye. There was something stuffed under the duvet, creating a tantalizing little hill. She had to know what it was.

When she drew back the duvet, full of anticipation and the slight thrill of doing something wrong, a small laugh was startled out of her.

It was a stuffed bear, its plush fur light blue, its button nose a darker blue. Stitches crisscrossed its belly and face, where it had obviously been mended several times.

The first thing that hit her was how unsurprised she was, after all.

It just figured that the guy who tried so, _so_ hard to appear larger-than-life, menacing and evil, posturing as if his life depended on it, would have a secret like this.

Then, however, she was just filled with an almost disturbing sense of sympathy. There they were, both well over thirty…no partners, no kids, barely any friends, consumed by their careers…she loved her job, though, and didn't have the time in her busy, exciting schedule to consider any of these things…at least not until the end of the day, when her empty bed beckoned.

Roxanne had left all her teddy bears behind when she moved out of her parents' house…but loneliness wasn't a stranger to her.

She found she couldn't do it. Couldn't mention what she'd discovered. Couldn't mock him.

She frowned down at the stuffed toy.

Why did she have any mercy or compassion for a guy who harassed her so often? Perhaps they had some things in common, but they were all superficial. He was really nothing like her. He stole, robbed, kidnapped and caused chaos on the streets whenever he felt like it. A supervillain who made life just that much harder for regular people and her weeks impossible to plan didn't deserve any mercy. Was she holding back just because "the most wonderful time of year" was closing in or was it because she just didn't want to sink down to that level?

Or maybe it was because she'd already humiliated his public persona, while this was…private. Very, _very_ private.

He'd never overstepped that boundary. Never gone inside her bedroom to unearth her secrets, never taken away her dignity in front of the city— or even under four eyes only, if it came to that.

Here, in this tidy, quiet, lonely little room, it felt as if she'd walked into an inner sanctum.

She shouldn't be in here.

Roxanne knew she was a journalist in a long line of Ritchi journalists, hence naturally inquisitive, but this was a bit nosy even for a Ritchi.

She decided to at least leave the drawers in his nightstand alone, in order to give him a little dignity and to ease her own creeping guilt. Besides, you never knew _what_ you'd find in people's nightstand drawers, so it was probably for the best.

In the main hall of the lair, Megamind was growing increasingly worried. Why was she gone so long? Where was she? What was she doing? Why was the lair so silent?

He knew she couldn't have accidentally fallen into one of his security traps, because then the _very loud _alarm would've sounded instantly.

He'd tried to calm down, to show her that she couldn't affect him as much as she no doubt believed she could, but now he was losing his cool. She could be looking at _anything_! She could be crossing private boundaries that no person, especially not someone working for a news network, should cross.

"Roxanne Ritchi!" he shouted, trying to turn his head to see where she was.

No answer was forthcoming.

"Why are you so _quiet_? Tell me what you're doing! What are you— stop touching all my stuff! That's private property!" Becoming frantic now, he wriggled almost violently in his chair.

Roxanne jumped slightly as there was a loud, echoing crash from the other room.

"OOOWW!"

Dropping the teddy bear, she rushed back out into the main hall, her gun at the ready.

* * *

When she arrived, he was lying on his back, the full weight of not only his body but also of the heavy wooden chair pressing mercilessly down on his arms, which were still tied behind his back. The intense discomfort was etched across his face as plainly as a tattoo.

"Augh! My hands! My arms!"

Lowering the gun, she rolled her eyes at him. "I told you not to move."

As he hissed in pain, however, she winced in sympathy. Okay, so maybe he was a supervillain, but that just _didn't_ look good.

She sighed as she stuck the gun into the back of her pants.

When the chair moved, he started a little before he realized she was pushing him up from the ground.

A sigh of relief escaped him when he was upright once more.

Then he groaned loudly as twinges of pain popped all along his arms, knifing through his hands. This was even more painful than getting put in a straight arm bar take-down by the prison guards.

"OoOOoowwWW!" he whined once more, looking at her through a narrow-eyed grimace of agony.

She merely stood there with her arms crossed, her gaze impatient. He stopped shouting and simply hissed again, wiggling in his chair. There was a beat, and then an explosive sigh from her.

"Okay, ya big baby…!"

He squinted up at her. "Huh?"

Before he knew it, her hands were sliding down the length of his leather-clad arms, prodding carefully before she started massaging the muscles, stimulating the circulation; he grunted, frowning.

A confused little noise rolled in the back of his throat as she kneaded his flesh through his clothes, brisk and business-like, before moving down, gently prying his twitching hands open, stroking the palms firmly with her thumbs.

Megamind fell silent, then, starting to feel completely lightheaded. He knew he should be objecting to this, he knew it was probably just another of her tricks, he knew he should feel deeply offended that she was treating him like a child with a skinned knee, acting all deceptively sympathetic when in reality she had him wrapped up like a Christmas present for her own diabolical amusement— but he couldn't quite seem to bring himself to get angry. He'd never been touched like this before. The circular motions and the warmth of her hands, even through the thick fabric of his outfit, were almost hypnotic.

It was all over in less than two minutes, though.

"Better?" she asked, her tone irked, yet strangely soft.

There came a slow nod and an appeased little moan in reply as he leaned back, arching into her hands, apparently wanting more. It struck her how similar he sounded to her whenever she (once in a blue moon) treated herself to a spa weekend.

Roxanne tensed, dropping his arms and taking a step back. What the hell was she even _doing_?

Just because he owned a teddy bear and silly pajamas and he'd gotten a booboo didn't make him any more innocent, or indeed, any more worthy of _any_ kind of her attentions.

How many times had he forced people to get two jobs, another loan or another mortgage to be able to pay for the property damage he'd caused or keep the stores he'd robbed from going bankrupt? Granted, things generally worked out eventually as Metro Man often managed to bring back all or at least most of the things his nemesis had stolen and did his best to repair the damages, but did Megamind ever show any regret? No! No, he _didn't_! He had _no_ consideration for the welfare of others!

This was _not cool_. This was _not_ why she was here. She needed to get back to business.

Megamind was yanked out of the lala-land of soothing sensations to which she'd sent him when he heard her speak the words he'd dreaded most of all.

"Hey, I wonder what _this_ does?"

Again, he was thrashing in his chair, desperate to get loose as he saw her running her fingers, feather-light and mocking, over the control panel connected to his death traps. "No! No, you leave those _alone_! You have no _concept_ of the kind of fire you're playing with, Miss Ritchi! Your puny human intellect has no chance at grasping the complexity of—"

"Oh, _really_?" Roxanne taunted, her outstretched finger hovering ever closer to the big red button in the center; the most obvious choice. "I think you're just afraid of seeing what it _really_ feels like to be the damsel in distress, tough guy."

"No! Don't!" he yelled, straining against the handcuffs. "You foolish, nosy reporter! You don't _know_, you'll— you'll—"

Her eyebrow cocked. "I'll _what_?"

He panted, shaking his head furiously. "If you don't know _exactly_ how to work the system—"

She shrugged. "I've seen you do it before."

"No, _no_, _NO_— I've redesigned it recently— there are fail-safes, traps against intruders— you're only going to _harm_ _yourself_!" he screeched.

There was a pregnant silence as they just looked at each other, both equally bewildered at what he'd said.

Megamind felt the muscles of his legs tightening anxiously against the chair. Oh, _now_ he'd done it. How would he _ever_ regain anything resembling villain credibility now? And what if she fell under the delusion that he actually _cared_— because that was just— just appallingly _true_—

_Oh,__ boy— gah— just let her ignore it—_

It was Roxanne who finally spoke. "_That's_ funny," she began in a slow, sarcastic tone, walking up to him and looking down at him unflinchingly, "and here I thought harm _was_ the whole point of machines that _spew flames and shove rotating knives in your face_. Silly _me_."

"There's a time and place for everything," he gritted out, trying to lean back as she leaned forward in challenge; the back of the chair made this difficult, "and what a waste it would be if my favorite pawn in the game of Good versus Evil were to pointlessly harm herself, robbing _me_ of the chance to do so, and without even the context of a _glorious_ scheme culminating in my taking over the fair city in which—"

"—yeah, _nice try_, Dr. Evil," she interrupted him with a flick of her hair and an impatient glance. For a moment, she was severely tempted to reveal the fact that she knew about his teddy bear. Gah, what a pompous windbag, huffing and puffing and trying to make himself look _so_ big and bad, when he wasn't even really all that— when he was actually kind of— _nice_—

She froze.

What was that thing about the welfare of others again?

They stared at each other in acute disconcertion, the flimsy cover provided by their attempted vitriolic remarks abruptly blown as they floundered, unable to produce suitable banter relating to his unlikely attack of protectiveness.

They couldn't help being fully conscious of the fact that she wasn't making another attempt at playing with the control panel, either.

"What is _wrong_ with you, Roxanne Ritchi?" Megamind blurted out in indignation, scrambling to make some noise, to change the subject. "Threatening another person with a dangerous weapon? A common criminal's handgun, no less? I'm so _disappointed_ in you! You're supposed to be one of the good guys!" He sounded a lot like he was scolding a child now.

"Oh, you mean _this_ thing?" Roxanne said innocently, retrieving the gun from the waistline of her pants and waving the weapon at him, watching him flinch.

A grin spread across her face, and then, her outstretched arms turning with her body in a deliberate, slow sweep, she aimed the gun directly at his face. To his further shock, she pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang.

For a second, he swore he could feel his heart stop. His mouth opened in a horrified, silent shout; his eyes closed tightly shut.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was neither injured nor dead.

Slowly, he opened one eye. "Whu—?"

"Why, Megamind…you didn't think it was a _real _gun, did you?" she inquired sweetly. "I mean, what do you _take_ me for? Some kind of _villain _or something?"

There was a long, stunned silence, where he simply gawked at her, slowly taking in the terrible, terrible truth that he, the world's greatest criminal mind, was being held hostage by a journalist with a toy gun.

Then, Megamind simply exploded. "You— _you_— Ritchanne Roxi! ANNERIX ROTCHI!"

Her laughter poured out in great waves, no less loud or obnoxious than his unfathomable ranting, but admittedly a lot more musical and joyous. "OH! Oh, your FACE! You sh-should see your FACE!"

Roxanne had been carrying that gun on her for _weeks_ in case she was kidnapped, but especially for this specific date; the day of the tree lighting ceremony, when she could _always_ count on him to make an appearance.

Wow. She'd really been waiting for this. Looking _forward_ to it.

And oh, _boy_, was it worth it.

"XORANNE ICHTIR! GRLPYT!"

"W-wow, so I see th-those weekend classes in Angrish really p-paid…paid off, huh?" she remarked, the muscles of her stomach straining under the effort it took to even _speak_.

He was practically foaming at the mouth now. "Bgglw! Mfrnkf? DMNKLY!"

Gasping with another bout of laughter, Roxanne rubbed her face in an effort to control herself. This was getting ridiculous. "Are you _done_?" she asked eventually, traces of laughter still tickling the back of her throat.

Just as he, breathing heavily by now, was about to attempt to yell something a little less incomprehensible at her, there was a rapid succession of clicks and flashes of light up above.

Soon, the entire room was bathed in an eerie blue and white shimmer.

Megamind sagged in the chair, the pang of regret in his gut deflating all his fury. Oh no, he'd _forgotten_— _all that work_, and for _nothing_—

Roxanne stared. Hundreds of blue and white lights sparkled and twinkled down at her in the shapes of giant lightning bolts and five-armed, crisp stars, each pointy arm straining to shine the brightest, and everything interspersed with smaller dots of light, flashing slowly off and on in rolling waves.

She'd never seen the gloom of the lair illuminated like this before.

Still, the light wasn't intense and unpleasant. It just deepened the shadows in the corners and gave the large room a blue, radiant glow.

"What's all this?" she asked Megamind, a curiously dreamy lilt to her voice now.

"It was on a pre-set timer since I wasn't sure Minion would be available to throw the switch!" Megamind complained, his face suddenly covered in miserable, disappointed anger. "It was supposed to be the surprise reveal! The grahn-dey finah-ley! And the Christmas lights weren't supposed to work at City Hall, so mine would be even more visible inside the lair! Even brighter! But nooo, of course _you_ had to—"

"Shut up, Megamind," Roxanne said calmly, turning off the giant monitors so the bright lights at City Hall were no longer competing with his.

Megamind was so surprised at the fact that she appeared to be indulging him that he _did_ shut up.

The effect was instantaneous. The lack of multi-colored, excess light from the monitors cast the bottom half of the high-ceilinged lair in hushed darkness. It was like looking up at some bizarre winter sky, a star-lit night painstakingly decorated in shards and sparks of electric blue and clear white; constellations created by some eldritch divine beings.

"Wow, that's…even more…wow," she breathed, her head tilting back in awe.

He felt dazed. It was like looking at a mirage; he wasn't quite sure if he could trust his own eyes. But there was Roxanne Ritchi, looking absolutely delighted and overwhelmed by something _he_ had constructed with his own two hands. She wasn't mocking, she wasn't criticizing, she wasn't even rolling her eyes…she looked joyful, like a small child in a toy store. And it was over _this_, which shouldn't even be all that impressive, at least not compared to everything _else_ he'd built. These were just there for aesthetic purposes; to be pretty and bright and outshine Metrocity. Yet _this_ was what had her bowled over. A lump formed in his throat as he watched her smile. This felt…_different_ than making somebody fear him.

"You…you like it?" he heard himself asking her, in this timid, hopeful voice that sounded nothing like the Megamind he knew.

"Yeah…" Roxanne nodded, not caring whether it would inflate his already industrial-sized ego even further— or even whether he'd use it against her at a later occasion, whenever he wanted to remind her that she wasn't _always_ so blasé. This was the first time she'd seen him create something beautiful rather than something harmful. And it was _very_ beautiful.

His expression told her that at least part of the purpose of all this had been to impress her.

Well, color her impressed.

"Really?" His face lit up for a second, taken by her frank answer, but then he caught himself. Donning a booming, bragging voice, he twisted everything around: "I mean, _of course_! I bet you've _never _seen anything like it! _Nobody_ can surpass the _ingenious _electrical engineering abilities of—" Megamind halted as he watched her drifting closer to him, still looking astonished, but also amused now. He squirmed in his chair, swallowing. "…you really like it?"

"Yeah…and you know what? As long as you're all gussied up for the season…" she murmured, fingering the stream of tinsel around his neck. This whole situation had felt almost unreal from the get-go, and after years of craving some sort of retaliation, she'd been reckless and giddy, just doing whatever had sprung to mind. Now, when he'd blindsided her with the gorgeous light display on top of everything else, she felt almost drunk somehow.

"What?" he demanded nervously, tensing up as she tugged on both ends of the tinsel with her hands, pulling him slowly towards her as if she was reeling in a stupefied fish. "What are you…?"

"Happy holidays, Megamind," said Roxanne, and kissed his cheek.

Electricity seemed to spark along his skin. When her soft, slightly moist lips broke the contact, their warmth lingered with him, spreading across his face, back and chest.

"Looks like I really _did_ get to see some Christmas lights on December first for once, hmm?" Smiling briefly in triumph at his thunderstruck visage, she went to pick up her coat, scarf and gloves.

At the back of her mind, there had been a warning sign flashing at her, trying to get her attention; now it was clawing itself to the forefront of her mind, assuring her that this had been a bad, bad, _bad_ idea. Yet she'd done it.

He'd felt strangely _normal_; his skin smooth and warm, the bristly hairs of his goatee brushing lightly against her chin. Although, what had she expected? Scales? Slime? Maybe she had.

Roxanne tried to ignore the thousand mile stare she felt on her back as she dressed.

Right when she'd gathered up her shopping bags and her handbag and was about to leave, Minion came hurrying out from some side door she hadn't even noticed. "Sir! The robot body's warmed up now, Sir!" He cried enthusiastically. "I know I'm a little late, but uh, it took so long, so I kinda fell asleep— oh, wow, would you _look_ at all the lights! It was really worth it, wasn't it, Sir? It all looks so—" He came to an abrupt stop. "Uh…Miss Ritchi? Why aren't you tied to the chair like usual? And where's—" Minion's large, brown, worried eyes darted across the room, searching until they found what they were looking for. "Sir!" Minion shouted, shocked as he took in the highly unusual sight of his master tied up, covered in tinsel and looking completely punch-drunk.

"Happy holidays, Minion!" called out Roxanne, who'd used the moment of confusion to sneak towards the exit. "Oh, and I left the ray gun over there on the desk! Bye!"

With that last farewell, she was gone.

"Happy…holidays?" Minion repeated uncertainly, his gaze ping-ponging between the exit and the addled countenance of his friend and boss. "Sir?" Minion tried, prodding his shoulder gently with one robotic finger.

This immediately snapped Megamind out of it. "_What_?" he barked defensively, frowning up at Minion. "Don't just stand there staring like a— a being that has been granted creepy googly eyes by evolution! I don't know— an owl! Stop being an owl, Minion! Make yourself useful and _untie_ me instead!"

Blinking, Minion bent down to undo the knots. "What _happened_, Sir?"

Going oddly purple in the face at the question, Megamind nevertheless clucked his tongue in lofty disapproval. "Miss Roxanne Ritchi, hitherto viewed by the public as wholesome and innocent, has begun utilizing _weaponry_, Minion!" There was no reason for Minion to know it hadn't actually been a _real_ gun, right?

Minion gasped. "No!"

"Yes! Can you believe it? Damsels in distress just aren't what they used to be!" Megamind agreed, pleased at his audience's appropriately scandalized reaction. Throwing off the untied ropes, he struck a triumphant pose. "But next time, we will not be fooled so easily! She simply took us by surprise, that cunning minx! Well, it's a whole other ball game now, and Megamind is not one to shy away from "stepping up", as they say! I accept your challenge, Miss Ritchi!" he bellowed, stabbing a relentless finger at the ceiling.

"Good for you, Sir!" Minion cheered, deciding not to comment on the usage of "we"; never pointing out the fact that he hadn't even _been _there, and so technically couldn't have been fooled.

Megamind flashed him a smile. "Thank you, Minion."

"You're quite welcome, Sir," said Minion, smiling in return.

There was a pause as Minion redirected his gaze to the hypnotic winking of the ceiling lights.

Looking down, Megamind realized he was still wearing the tinsel. Slowly, he dragged it down from around his neck. "Minion…did you know humans have a holiday tradition that says they have to kiss anybody who's wearing tinsel? I thought that was missley-tooey."

"It _is_ mistletoe, Sir," Minion confirmed.

He glanced at Minion, then at the tinsel dangling from his hands. "Are you _sure_?"

"I'm pretty positive, Sir."

"Ah."

Minion leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Why, Sir? If you don't mind me asking."

Megamind hesitated, realizing too late that he'd probably said too much. "Just…something I read online," he fibbed, avoiding Minion's eyes.

Minion gave him a curious glance, but shrugged. "You know, the lights really _did_ turn out _wonderfully_, Sir."

A wistful smile ghosted across Megamind's lips. "So I've heard."

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, waving a peremptory hand at Minion. "Let us start the work on repairing your other robot body!"

Minion's face lit up. "Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!"

As Minion bounded off happily towards the storage area for his robot bodies, Megamind paused for a moment, staring up at the twinkling lights on the high ceiling.

Shaking his head, he dropped the tinsel on his cluttered desk, noticed the ray gun lying there and re-sheathed it in its hip holster. She could've stolen it quite easily. Why hadn't she? His fingers lingered pensively on the gun for a second before he frowned, following Minion.

This had all just been some sort of fluke. Nothing similar would ever happen again. No more having his hard work openly admired, and no more kisses.

_Certainly_ no more holding him hostage; not if _he_ had something to say about it.

The undisputable fact that she'd _kept_ the secret location of his lair a _secret_ stayed with him, though, refusing to leave.

* * *

"Good evening, Roxy!"

Looking up, Roxanne smiled at Metro Man, who was hovering just above her balcony. "Evenin', Wayne."

"May I?" he inquired politely as he drifted closer to where she was standing, reaching out a foot towards the balcony floor. When she nodded, he landed softly, following her into her apartment.

"So I take it you caught the live broadcast tonight?" she asked, her tone innocent as she picked up her mug of tea from the countertop at the kitchen island and watched as he gingerly placed the four shopping bags he'd been carrying on the edge of her red couch. "Figured you'd show up at my balcony sooner or later."

"O Roxanne, Roxanne! Wherefore art thou Roxanne?" Metro Man joked half-heartedly, showing her a deliberately cheesy grin. "Seriously, though, you're one of a kind, you mad reporter! That was a pretty big stunt you pulled there, Roxy," he told her honestly, his eyebrows raised. "Not a lot of people would've even _considered_ it. You've got real guts."

Roxanne hid her flattered smile behind the mug. "Oh, you know…I _try_."

"Pretty soon I'm gonna be out of a job, huh?" he teased her, but there was something about the way he said it that sounded rather pleased at the prospect.

"Too bad he's never going to fall for the same trick twice." She shrugged, grinning as she put the mug down, empty. "Looks like you're gonna have to protect the tree lighting ceremony on your own next year, big guy."

His shoulders seemed to slump for a second, but then he snapped back to his peppy old self so fast that she wondered if she'd just hallucinated it.

"Of course," Metro Man said bracingly. "It's my _duty_!"

Blinking, she turned to the small pile of gifts on the kitchen counter and picked up the record she'd bought him. "So, anyway…here ya go," she said brightly, trying to smile as she handed the flat, rectangular parcel to Metro Man. "I figured since you're here, you might as well get your present. I know how busy you get this time of year, what with the increase in fires, traffic accidents and suicide attempts."

This time, she was _sure_ she saw his shoulders slump; his eyebrows even drew together in an uncharacteristically worried frown.

She cringed. Sometimes her chronic realism could be a bit too much for people. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a news reporter. They should rather be amazed at how relatively optimistic and idealistic she stayed, really. "Um, _sorry_— but look on the bright side! After what I did to him, I'm sure Megamind won't bother you again until January!"

The worried frown turned inquisitive. "Uh, Roxy…what exactly _did_ you do to him, anyway?"

She chuckled awkwardly. _Wrapped him in tinsel, refrained from going public with the secret location of his evil lair, went through his private stuff, marveled at his fantastic Christmas lights, __**kissed**__ him…the usual._ "Oh, you know…just gave him a taste of his own medicine," she said evasively, flapping a hand in dismissal. "Let him see what it's like on the other side of the hostage situation."

Metro Man scoffed, puffing up his chest. "So the Big Bad can dish it out, but he can't take it? _Figures_."

She shrugged, silently agreeing with him by sending him a big, exasperated smile.

Metro Man smiled back, shrugging as well. As usual, the subject of Megamind was treated as a mundane yet amusing routine, one which irritated them but that they were so used to by now that it was actually charming in its familiarity, like some eccentric uncle who visited just a little too often. Of course, eccentric uncles didn't usually have robot armies, death traps and flashes of real evil genius that occasionally kept them on their toes, but still…this tree lighting ceremony thing was getting old.

Metro Man's turned serious again, then. "But how did you manage to take him hostage? I mean, you must've threatened him somehow, right?"

Sending him a somewhat rascally grin that she knew looked silly on a grown woman, she went to grab her handbag from a kitchen chair. "I simply used this and the imagination of an experienced hostage," she told him, laughing when she saw his shocked expression as she presented the gun. "Don't worry, it's just a very realistic-looking toy. It doesn't even fire blanks," she reassured him. Then she beamed, "You should've _seen_ the look on his face! He had _no_ idea."

He blinked, perplexed; she could tell he was trying and failing at imagining exactly how the whole thing might've gone. "Is that the story you're going to tell the press? I bet the phone's been ringing off the hook here."

Roxanne gave a wry smile. "No, this is more of a comedy. People like drama." Placing the toy gun on the counter, she fiddled absentmindedly with one of her earrings. Sometimes they came a bit undone during her kidnappings; a couple of times, she'd even lost one. Not this time. "I've got a few interviews lined up tomorrow afternoon. I'm sure I'll have thought up something suitably thrilling by then."

Metro Man chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'll be looking forward to hearing what you cook up with that occasionally _scary _journalist mind of yours."

A brief laugh tumbled out of her. "Damn straight. Now remember, no opening the gift before Christmas morning," Roxanne chastised him flippantly, wagging her finger at her friend. "That means _no_ X-ray vision, Metro Man."

Metro Man shook the parcel, listening with exaggerated concentration to its contents rattling almost inaudibly inside. "Oooh, I wonder if it could be a _record_…"

"Yes, but _which_ record?" Roxanne retorted just like the year before, indulging him with a wink. She knew he needed a bit of silly, casual playfulness in his life when all the people he met would rather kiss his feet than kid around with him like he was just a regular guy.

Smiling, Metro Man picked up one of the paper shopping bags and handed it over to her. "Happy holidays, Roxy. I didn't really know what to get you this year, so I got a little of everything," he explained when she looked surprised. "Besides, I figured you deserved a couple of extra ones after what you did today," he added with a boyish grin.

Rattling the bag a little, she listened to the individual presents bumping against each other and grinned at him. "Happy holidays,_ indeed_. If _this_ is a hero's reward, maybe I'll consider doing some more work for you, hmm?"

There was a melancholy chuckle from Metro Man, and then he gathered up the rest of his shopping bags, waved at her, and flew out the balcony doors— literally. She wondered if she'd ever get completely used to that part.

Just before she closed the balcony doors after him, she swore she could hear him singing up there, loudly and slightly off-key.

For Metro Man's sake, Roxanne hoped that Megamind really _would_ lay low until January.

For her own sake, she hoped her inevitable next kidnapping wouldn't be as completely awkward as she suspected it would be. She'd only kissed him on a whim, intoxicated by the spectacular sight of his home-made light show and oddly grateful for it, intoxicated by wicked, righteous triumph and wanting to show him who had the power for once; wishing to taunt him one last time before she went home, the way he always taunted _her_, telling her that she'd never be saved, that her hero was doomed…

She wondered briefly if some of her grudges against him had been buried, if being able to get back at him even a little, being able to switch their positions and intimidate him, dominate him in a manner he hadn't managed to do to her in _years,_ had been some sort of catharsis for her. If _that_ was why she'd been in a good enough mood to give a supervillain a Christmas kiss, even a mischievously mocking one.

And besides, it'd only been on the _cheek_, right? No big deal.

Roxanne prayed the purely impulsive moment wouldn't come back to bite her on the ass.

**The End.**

* * *

**Author's note:** Because we all _know_ Megamind would have _amazing_ Christmas lights. :D

In my personal canon, Metro Man and Roxanne aren't close friends, but they do keep in touch and meet up occasionally outside of Megamind's evil plans.

**Thank you, borg_princess**, for volunteering to beta read the final chapter. Thanks for all your helpful suggestions and praise. :)

**For amuseoffirebane**, who commented on the first chapter over at the Megamind LJ community: I wanted so badly to reply to the comment you made where you said you couldn't quite see Roxanne with a gun, but that would've totally spoiled the second chapter, so…yeah. It was just a toy gun all along. Dun dun DUN. XD

And yes, in case you missed it, readers…this story screams "sequel". Unless Real Life gets completely in the way, there might be one. Please don't leave me reviews or emails asking for a sequel, though, because while I have begun writing it, I can't make any promises about being able to finish it. My life is about to get really busy again now.

**Grlpyt! Bgglw! Mfrnkf? Dmnkly!:** Copypasted (with some slight tweaking) from a game script of _The Secret of Monkey Island_. **Angrish** (from TV Tropes: when a character is so angry, pissed off, or shocked that he is literally unable to form a coherent sentence) is harder to write than it looks, and I remembered there were some complete nonsense words in TSoMI. :P

For anyone who wants to hear what it might sound like when Megamind speaks Angrish, please go to YouTube and search for either the Will Ferrell "glass case of emotion" clip from _Anchorman_ or the "where's my dog?" one from _Bewitched_. Then you'll get the general idea. :D


End file.
